The Way It Ends
by thoroughly-inktroverted
Summary: When Sasuke ends up in his own Infinite Tsukuyomi dream, the last thing he expects is to wake up in a different universe. Trapped in New York City with no knowledge of language or current events, Sasuke finds himself being dragged into a conflict he has no part in, all while desperately searching for a way back home. It's a good thing Peter's here to help.


**A/N: Had a dream one night and this happened. Not much more I can say. Inspiration works in strange ways.**

 **First part here is a bit angsty and serves as a prelude/prologue of sorts. Let me know what you think!**

 ***P.S., the title is inspired by the song The Way It Ends by Landon Pigg. If you haven't heard it, I suggest you do so, it ties in really nicely.**

1\. A Dream of Waking

Life is a cruel, cruel thing.

Even now, sitting alone in his hospital room, alive and well, Sasuke knows this to be his only truth. Life is cruel. And crueler still, it's taken a liking to him.

It's early morning. The sun is only just starting to peak shyly over the rooftops outside the faraway window, a single pale ray glinting softly against the chains on his wrists. For safety, they told him - theirs or his, he does not know. The room is silent, cold and still. He stares at the ceiling - silent, cold and still. He's been like this for days. Weeks. He doesn't remember.

The people come and go. Some to speak, some to scream, some to beg and plead, all trying to get him to react in some way - _any_ way - that'll let them know he's still here. That he's still Sasuke. That his mind hasn't left him like everything else has.

He doesn't.

He is numb.

Finally… _finally_ … he is done. If only they would let him be.

They don't understand. Sasuke knows this. He knows it isn't really fair, either. Not to him, who could never begin to try and explain what he's lost. Not to them, who have lost him so completely with no warning, no sign at all. Sometimes, rarely, he finds himself wanting. He finds his eyes wandering like they never do, his fingers flexing, wishing to reach out and touch him… but he sees blond hair and blue eyes, or pink and green or white and black, and he pulls back.

 _Not him,_ he thinks. _Never him_.

The urges dwindle, then fade entirely. Eventually, they stop crying for him. Eventually, they stop coming at all.

Sometimes, Sasuke misses them. Sometimes, he is relieved they've given up. Mostly, he feels nothing at all.

Today is not like the rest.

Today, his dark eyes drift slowly from the ceiling to watch the sun as it rises. The warm glow of an unusually peaceful dream slowly fades, and for those few fragile moments, he feels something. Peace. Loss. Regret… and relief.

He doesn't know how or why, but overnight, the dream had changed something in him. His eyes are a little less empty. His mind is a little less foggy. The sunrise is a little more bright and the chains that hold him down are a little more heavy. Everything is somehow more real, and it feels… not _good_ , but… _better_ , somehow.

Today, when a young medic comes in to take his blood pressure and check his vitals, he looks at her, and she screams.

Today, when Tsunade arrives to confirm that he is, in fact, lucid and responsive, he looks into her brown eyes and sees _her_. He remembers another pair, darker and brighter and _gone, lost, gone_ … but he sees her, not him, and that's a start.

Today, he sits upright. Today, he does not scream and threaten and lash out when someone touches his hand. Today, he allows the chains on one wrist to be removed so he can eat food that isn't from a needle and he doesn't make them regret it, because he is done fighting. He is done, and they let him be.

Today is different, because today he remembers, and today he doesn't want to die anymore. Today he remembers and decides to live. For himself. For him.

Today, living doesn't mean just simply breathing. Today, living also means being, and Sasuke can't _be_ if he's letting his sorrow keep him bound to a bed and forgotten. There are better ways to be forgotten than in the psych wing of the hospital labeled as a casualty of war, even if it did manage to keep him out of a cell.

Tsunade asks many questions, but at first he doesn't respond. He's nearly forgotten how. He can tell she is becoming frustrated with him - so close to cracking the case, to getting through to him, a medic nin's insatiable thirst for knowledge and knowing - but to her credit, she doesn't push him. Though he doesn't show it, Sasuke is grateful. He has learned to be.

He is beginning the slow process of testing out sounds and simple syllables in his long unused throat between sips of water when Naruto arrives, followed by Sakura and then Kakashi. Naruto grins brightly at the sight of him sitting up, and Sakura smiles softly at him through rivers of tears. Kakashi simply nods at him, thoughts hidden behind his mask like everything else, and somehow, Sasuke thinks this small acknowledgement touches him most.

As the three come closer to his bedside, Sasuke looks up at the weary man, swallows thickly, and rasps, "... _Sensei_."

He is sure Kakashi smiles.

Sasuke knows it is time. He knows he needs to explain now, to tell his story. It is only fair. They don't know what he has been through - how much he has changed since closing his eyes on the battlefield all those lifetimes ago. The Sasuke who woke up again isn't the Sasuke they once knew, nor would he ever be again.

After more water - in cups and in eyes - and several more words spoken and almost-smiles exchanged, he settles back against the too-white pillows and begins the tale of how this Sasuke came to be. He leaves nothing out. They listen.

Life is cruel. This is Sasuke's truth. And he still wonders if the way it ends is worth the pain.


End file.
